Brotherhood Babbles
by sloanesavoy
Summary: How can four boys cause so much damage? Fear for your life with driving terror Lance, commanding and bombastic Pietro, toboggan wielding Fred, and a break dancing, no, convulsing Todd. Their zany adventures will leave you nervously laughing or cringing !
1. In Which Toad Breakdances

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters. Just the asinine plot. :D

This is my first ever fanfiction. And it is crazy. Co-written by my sister and I.

Brotherhood Babbles

The Beginning Beat

Consider a time in which life flowed as freely as the rivers of maple syrup and candy land dreams. The women were loving and the men almost non-existent. But one soul with a Y chromosome stood tall in the sexual fantasy of all heterosexual males.

And that soul was Todd Tolensky.

----------

"Betcha five bucks he'll be comatose within the hour."

The rest of the Brotherhood stood on and watched as Todd twitched on the tiled kitchen floor. His spasms were so violent that the other boys had to keep a distance of ten feet so as to not get their teeth knocked out. Lance Alvers, feeling adventurous, decided to up the ante on Pietro's wager.

"I wager fifteen, and him DYING."

They had a good chuckle about this for a few moments. Freddy, bless his soul, was a little more sympathetic.

"Uh, shouldn't we call 911 or somethin'?" he interjected on their little joke.

Pietro frowned at this. How DARE he show compassion to Toad? He, of the Brotherhood of EEEEEVIIILL? But, not bothering to bring this up as he had already forgotten what he was thinking about, Pietro ignored Fred.

"Hark, we must leave, to the STORE! For we are out of cereal." Lance announced dramatically.

"Yeah, because Todd ate it all," said Fred sadly. Lance shook his head.

"Nah, we had none before that. What Toady here ate was a pound of pure caramel, disguised as cereal." Lance answered. "Of course, QS here used your stash."

Freddie seemed to take it well. He only threw Pietro into the fridge.

----------

Surprisingly enough, Lance was a pretty graceful driver. He daintily took the left turn at 80 miles an hour, through the elementary school playground. It was almost swanlike, how he swerved around the screaming children almost flawlessly. Of course, little Tommy had to spend his third grade graduation in critical condition, but thems the breaks. Speaking of brakes, Lance nicked only twelve cars as he screeched to a halt in the supermarket parking lot. It was a new record!

The other shoppers looked at them warily as the three boys swaggered into the store. Well, Fred waddled. Pietro failed to impress, though, for he smacked into the sliding glass door, as he was going a little too fast for it to react. Lance laughed at him, and then mysteriously found himself with a broken jaw.

They enter, and soon notice something exciting. Lance, with his newfound speech impediment, exclaimed, "Oh, loo' guy'! Sho' 'iing cahs'!" He pointed at the shopping carts.

"Oh! Oh! I wanna ride one!" Fred hopped up and down like a dog denied of its right to urinate, and effectively caused the ground to imitate an earthquake. 5.6 on the Rictor Scale, for those interested.

"I'd rather you not, Blob. Seeing as you'd crush the poor thing." Pietro explained this to him, "Unlike someone thin and beautiful as moi. So I shall be riding the cart of glory."

Fred also took this well. Pietro skidded down the second aisle, and knocked over a poor employee setting up a stand of two liter sodas. They say he'll be out of the hospital next week, but Pepsi will haunt him forever.

Lance caught up to Pietro in the dairy section. Pietro seem miffed.

"Who the hell puts eggs in the dairy aisle? They're obviously vegetables."

----------

"I foun' uh cewea'!"

Lance cried with joy. And pain. Merciless pain. He seriously needed to seek medical attention. Fred and Pie attempted to desperately understand what he was saying. And the blood kept squirting onto their clothes which frankly was unflattering. After actually looking into the direction Lance was pointing, they finally comprehended his anguish laced sentence.

"Ohhh, you mean CEREAL. Um, good work Lance. And find some napkins to clot that fountain of red. You're making a puddle." Pietro shooed him away.

Lance made an angry face. Pietro was the one that caused his chin to shatter. HE should find napkins! Or at least a towel. He stomped off with malice and broken teeth.

The other two could now focus on their quest to seek the Cereal of Ages.

"Hey, Pietro! Look! This box of Jagged Sharp Teethy Tooth Crunch comes with a free Knashy Shark lighter! Let's get it!" Fred begged. He did enjoy children's breakfast cereals.

"Simple fool, we shouldn't just buy it due to a free crap prize! It's a tool to sucker stupid customers into buying processed junk that will cut the roof of your mouth!"

Fred began to make his 'I'm going to take this well' face, and Pietro decided it wasn't worth it to have another rug burn on his ass.

"Or, we could buy it. I could use a lighter. Somehow. Yeah."

At this pivotal moment of choosing, Lance gallantly returned, with several napkins stuffed up his face, and a sway in his step. He wasn't strutting; it was blood loss.

----------

"Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen…"

The brotherhood boys were getting impatient. Sure, it was bad enough that there was only one checkout lane open, but the guy in front of them took the cake.

"Who the hell pays for fifty dollars worth of groceries in PENNIES?" Pietro said loudly. Fred nodded in agreement.

"Thas ih!" Lance shouted and gurgled at the same time. He pushed Duncan Matthews to the ground and stepped on him. "Yuu. Sewl. Cewea. Now." He directed this command to the cash register lady and managed to spew some blood on her face. Too scared and disturbed to do anything else, she shakily took the cereal from him.

"Ah, uh, okay. And how will you be paying for this, sir?"

Uh oh.

"That's right! You have to use money for food!" Pietro realized. The lady stared at him. "Correct, sir. So, are you going to pay or not?"

They were lost on this concept. Thinking quickly to get out of a potential awkward silence, Pietro used all of his finesse and skill to rectify the situation.

"Look! A convenient distraction!"

And so they ran. And it was beautiful.

----------

Freddie dragged Lance up the driveway by his leg, and the boy was successfully eating pavement. Lance had passed out whilst driving erratically down a sidewalk, and Fred was forced to take the wheel, as Pietro was filing his nails. The body count was five fire hydrants, seven cyclists, one old lady, and over four dozen mailboxes. The mailmen around the world wept.

Once inside, they heard several crashing noises coming from the kitchen. Toad was convulsing on the glass and porcelain littered tile. The boys perceived this as break dancing, due to them forgetting this morning's events.

"Eee! My fine china!" Pietro shrieked.

"So, uh, where's the cereal? I'm hungry." Fred's tummy grumbled.

"Oh no, I think we forgot it at the store. We'll have to replace it with caramel again."

Fred was too famished to take that well. Poor baby.

----------

Several hours later, Todd regained consciousness. His back strangely hurt. Mayhaps it was the shards of plates lodged into his spine. He made his way into the living room. The geyser of blood that was Lance was ignored.

"Woah, what happened, yo?"

"I have no idea." Pietro lied. "Want some cereal?"

And so there it is. Reviews are nice and whoever can correctly translate what the crap Lance is saying gets, I dunno, a pat on the back. Good job, Skippy:D


	2. In Which The Toboggan Falls

I am a horrible, horrible person for not updating. But, oh well. THE REVIEWS, though. They make me ecstatic. :D I hope you enjoy more of my sis's and mine bizarre and stupid humor.

Disclaimer: We, once again, own the plot. And the cereal. And that weird teacher. But not much else. The characters are not ours, sadly.

Brotherhood Babbles

F for Fantastic

Todd hopped semi-gracefully down the stairs, and only misjudged the last four steps. He then moseyed into the kitchen, nursing his injured wrist. Todd enjoyed breakfast. It was considered the most important meal of the day, anyway. Strangely enough, though, he could not remember the last five mornings. He reached for a box of Jagged Sharp Teethy Tooth Crunch, but his hand subconsciously retreated from the supposed evil, as if the box was on fire. No, it said, this is a bad idea.

"Better have toast instead, yo."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Damn, Lance! What happened to your mouth?" Pietro looked horrified.

Lance adopted the 'taking this well' expression from Fred and plastered it on his face. At least, to the best of his ability. He still had a broken jaw, after all. Pietro had already forgotten again why Lance sported a napkin scarf and often held a paper cup under his mouth to keep his blood from staining the floor. So, this question was routine in the mornings.

"I brogue ith, you ath-hole."

On a positive note, his speech was becoming easier to understand.

Pietro gave a look of understanding, then that of not caring, and they then made their way down to the first floor.

Lance was also irritated by the fact that he couldn't eat solid food. Actually, he could, but it was such a source of irrefutable agony that he didn't dare attempt it again after the first several tries.

His thoughts were then interrupted by a rumbling sound. Was it raining? The horribly bright window with bluebirds singing their off-key melodies said no, you moron. Then what was this foreboding noise of possible terror?

Oh my God. Fred has the toboggan.

"DUCK AND COVER!" Pietro shrieked.

This was enough of a warning for Lance and Pietro to dive over the wooden railing of the stairs and cascade into the living room. A large, shadowed figure loomed over the edge of the uppermost step. Gravity, the bastard, gave into Freddie's tremendous weight, and he plummeted down with such a velocity to make the Flash envious. The stairs pulled through relatively unscathed. The kitchen wall, however, was not in good fortune that day.

"Yo, what's that noise? Is it raining?"

Toad, once again, lost his memory of that morning. Years onward, all he would have to recall of that moment were nightmares of the refrigerator (along with the rest of the wall) hurtling at him.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Lance was as terrific at driving as ever. Running stop signs, evading police, mowing down pedestrians. Pfft, a walk in the park for Lance, Bane of the Highway.

His choice of school parking today was to somehow run headlong into the side of the gymnasium. A remarkable feat due to the student parking lot being positioned on the other side of the school, and he was there 2.7 seconds ago.

They sauntered up to the main entrance and nearly entered Bayville High's halls when an angry voice barked at them from behind.

And that voice belonged to meathead Duncan Matthews.

"Hey, you jerks! You're gonna pay for what you did at the grocery store!"

"And what did they do, Duncan?" asked the ever observant arm accessory Jean Grey.

Duncan realized at that moment how embarrassing his tale of being mowed over in a checkout lane like an old lady really was and opted for a cover story.

"Uh, they, um, ganged up on me at, uuh, the parking lot of a, um, game store!"

Nice save, Duncan thought.

"Didn't you say you were at a grocery store?" his trophy girlfriend asked.

Jean Grey didn't need telepathy to realize Duncan was lying. Honestly, he downright sucked at it.

The two lovebirds were left in the Brotherhood's dust. Pietro wasn't interested in such petty affairs. Todd bordered on consciousness. Fred thought about lunchtime. And Lance realized he forgot his blood holder (a paper cup, mind you) that he named Li'l Lance.

Oh, poopy.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"And that is what happened to the class parrot, Jacob."

Mrs. Butterbottom explained without any sign of remorse. Jacob left the room, with tears in his eyes. Mr. Poppycock was his dearest friend. How dare he die?

"Yeah, whatever. Anyway, class, I'd like to remind you that your group assignment is due today. If you forgot, you have five minutes to try and make a half-assed one. Go."

Shit fuck. How could we forget? Pietro was frantic. He didn't want to fail and have to take the class again. He hated Mrs. Lardass-I mean Mrs. Butterbottom. He needed to come up with something quick. His inner monologue was taking up several precious seconds!

Pietro turned to his fellow Brotherhood members, who somehow all got into to same class together. Who was the dumbass who decided that? Didn't anyone look at their records? Geez!

"Quick! We need to come up with a project in the next 3.78 minutes!"

"How about a speech on the history of, uhh…," Todd looked around the room for some sort of inspiration. Freddy had thrown him against a wall to wake him up from the morning's events. He spotted something. It was circular, and had some markings on it. Some…things were moving in it. What was it called again? It was on the tip of his tongue.

"…Clocks!" He remembered.

"Bwillian'!" Said Lance in a disturbingly adorable way. Of course, if you told him this, he'd give you the same accent.

"Time's up," Mrs. Butterbuttom stated. Damn. I guess we'll have to improv, Pietro thought. At least I'll have time to think up some clever lies. "How about Mr. Alvers's group goes first?" Double Damn.

The flunkies made their way to the front of the class. They stared at the class. The class stared back, but mostly with disgust. What was wrong with Lance's face? In any case, being bold, Pietro spoke first.

"Today, we will…discuss the exciting history of…the clock." He began. "To tell you, here is Lance with the story." Smooth, Pietro. You sounded just like one of those neat reporters on T.V. And now you don't have to say shit.

Lance wanted to strangle Pietro, but there would be too many witnesses. "Oh 'hay. Tha nobal cloth wa' firth mahe by tha lae…uh…Prohessher Iaho of Canaha. He discohered tha metho' of cloth mahing smassing his hea' on a toli' seah."

The class was horrified. No, not by the butchering of the history of the noble clock, but by the sheer amount of blood erupting from his mouth. Girls and boys shrieked alike as to the spattered missiles of blood striking the front row. Luckily, the teacher stopped Lance from dying to the rest of the room red.

After the other presentations were finished, Mrs. Butterbottom handed out the grades. "I'm afraid you boys received an 'F' on the project." She announced

"For fantastic?" Pietro hoped.

"No."

"Fabulous?"

"No."

"Phenomenal? Wait."

"No, Pietro. Your speech was the worst I've heard in any of my classes. It had no facts in it whatsoever. And besides, this is geography class."

And done. Gawd, I had to update this thing like, 2 thousand times. (More like 3, really.)

Next chapter is lunchtime! Maybe. See you then.


	3. In Which There Are Quarintines

Wow, we haven't updated in forever. I have no excuses. You may hit me with a bat if you desire. I love the reviews! So delightful to read. You all make me very happy, even though I abuse you all with procrastination. Please enjoy my sister and mine's downward spiral in writing this.

Disclaimer: We do not own the characters or anything. Only the bizarre story.

Brotherhood Babbles

Lunchroom Lollies

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"You're going down, Alvers!" Scott screeched.

Technically, Lance was already down on the ground, drowning in a pool of his own blood. He managed to get himself back up after slipping a few times.

"Wanna beh'?" Lance slurred. He was getting kind of dizzy. Scott had no reaction to this sight, seeing as he was colorblind, and thought it was sweat.

"Are we going to do this, or what?" Scott yelled at the swaying Brotherhood boy.

They fought rigorously, lobbing at each other with extreme force. The class looked on in awe, some with mild disgust. Somewhere, a janitor was crying. Blood and sweat sprayed everywhere; the two boys wouldn't stop their rampage. The teacher did nothing to control the situation.

Badminton was more competitive than most people realized.

"Give up, Alvers!" Scott panted, racket in hand. He struck the birdie in one final blow. It spun majestically over the net. Students gaped and covered their eyes, as they could not handle the suspense or gore. Lance had already fallen over. The birdie bounced once on the ground and then stilled.

"I win!" Scott began his victory dance, which involved The Robot and a little ass shaking. All were too stunned to cheer.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

After the gymnasium was quarantined for hazard control, the student body all rushed to their favorite class period: Lunch! Scott began to portray his triumphant victory over the evil Brotherhood to his mutant buddies.

"So then, I was all like, 'Rargh!', and he was all like, 'Hurrph!', and then I was like, 'You're going down!', and he was all like, 'Durr!', and I was all, 'Fwoom!', and he was all like, 'Blargh!', and then-"

"Would you just shut the fuck up?!"

Everyone turn towards Jean in response to her uncharacteristic outburst. She realized her mistake, and molded her mind and face back to that of a pretty pretty princess.

"Um, ha ha, I mean, how…nice!"

Nice save, Jean thought.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Toad hopped into the lunch line. Something was weighing heavily on his mind.

"No one seems to care about me, yo. I'm always the funny guy; the comic relief. I'm just the guy on the sidelines who gets the most crap. I have feelings, too! Hmm, I wonder why I had glass in my back yesterday. That kind of stung, yo. Maybe it's linked to the reason why I can't remember the last six mornings. …Did I leave the toaster plugged in? Hey, those waffles look airborne."

Todd Tolensky smashed his face on the counter as he made his way down to the floor. The lunch ladies didn't even bat an eye.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Rogue glared at all who passed her. No one cared how she felt. She had to live with a cruel fate, day in and day out. Scott wouldn't understand her, she thought as she eyed his firm and supple ass. Who could she talk to? Who would have empathy towards her pain? The German? Yeah, okay, sure.

"German! Ah need to talk to ya!"

"No need to be racist. I haff a name, you know." Kurt stated.

"Oh, right. Anyway, Kurt German, I thought y'all could relate to me with what Ahm goin' through, seeing as we both can't touch people."

"Vhat the hell are you talking about?"

"Ya know, 'cause we're both mutants."

"…Vhat?!"

"You know, 'cause humans get shocked when we touch 'em."

"That's just you!"

"Nuh uh!"

"I don't believe this. I going to go sit over there vith Kitty now."

"Fine! I don't need you! Ah'll just go an' write mean things about y'all in my Livejournal! An' maybe Ah'll write stories about how y'all suck and wish you were me, an' Ah'm the hero, an' I fall in love with Sco-"

"Hey, Rogue! What are you screaming about?" Scott said as he materialized from nowhere behind her.

Rogue was speechless.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Freddy emerged from the lunch line with two trays of food in tow. Today's menu featured hot dogs! That were suspiciously green. And may or may not have rocks in them. But Freddy didn't mind; he was hungry. He then went to sit next to Pietro, who was eyeing his own tray with revulsion.

"Hey, Pie, you gonna eat that?" Freddy stared at the speed demon's food with an almost lustful gaze. Pietro was only slightly scared.

"Um, yeah." He shoved the tray a little more quickly than he should have. It flew off the table at an alarming rate. The hot dogs enjoyed their flight of freedom through the air, but it was abruptly cut short due to the obstacle that was Duncan's face.

"Who threw that?" Duncan raged. He looked around for the perpetrator. The two Brotherhood boys didn't even bother to try to feign innocence as they laughed loudly and obnoxiously at him.

"Which one of you threw those at me? Was it you, tubby?" Duncan sneered.

Freddy was about to take that well, when he realized something.

"Those insults about my weight do not hurt me anymore. I am fine the way I am." Freddy said with the utmost confidence.

"You go, Freddy! Keep remembering what your counselor said!" Pietro cheered his friend on in his own special way.

Duncan was almost at a loss to what to say. Calling him chubby was always such a great way to lower his self-esteem!

"Y-yeah, well, your hair's stupid!"

Freddy took this comment in stride.

And then the lunchroom exploded.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"What the hell was that?"

The X-Geeks looked in awe at the lunchroom that once was. It was now in ruin.

"I vonder if everyone inside died." Kurt said. He had happened to leave with Kitty before the destruction occurred.

Pietro and Freddy wandered out of the rubble unharmed, dragging Todd and Lance with them. They dropped their incapacitated companions to stare at the wreckage.

"Whoops." Freddy said unapologetically.

"What do you mean 'whoops'? You blew up the cafeteria!" Scott shouted, "How did you even manage to do that?!"

An epic battle was about to take place! But then Lance gurgled something on the ground. Nobody understood what he said. But they all realized something:

"Yeah, we really should take him to the hospital."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

That's it for this chapter! Next time: A fun visit to the ER! Yay!


	4. In Which Manly Men Cry

Oh gosh and golly, an update!

Brotherhood Babbles

Hospital Havoc!

Pietro shut his cell phone with a click. It actually wasn't his; he had stolen it from that skateboard fanatic Evan two weeks ago. Evan still hadn't realized it was gone. Pietro thought that was kind of weird.

The ambulance arrived relatively quickly. Students amongst the rubble cried for joy; someone could help with their excruciating injuries!

But the ailing teens' hopes, much like their bones, were shattered. For this specific medical rescue team had only one objective in mind as they pointedly ignored the pleas for help: Lance Alvers.

The medics gracefully danced about the wreckage, swans in flight as they hoisted Lance on to a stretcher and pirouetted to the ambulance. The mangled students did not appreciate Pietro's observations. Pssh, they didn't know art if it slapped them on the ass.

"Alright, who's riding along with him?" one of the medics called out. Todd halfway raised his hand when he was violently shoved out of the way onto unforgiving shrapnel.

"I will!" cried Scott Summers. His face glistened in the sun. Was…was he crying? "It's a-all my fault! If-if only I hadn't beaten him so badly at badminton, this wouldn't-wouldn't have happened! Oh God, what have I done!?" Scott jumped into the back of the ambulance, and began to stroke Lance's blood stained face. "I'm sorry, so sorry, so sorry…"

Everyone watched the medics shut the ambulance doors and speed away, whispers of Scott's ramblings still heard in the air.

Todd summed up the scene impeccably:

"What the fuck, yo."

ooooooooooooooooo

Scott's impassioned cries of sorrow were all well and good (creepy, even), but he didn't allow any time for anyone to grab Lance's car keys, instead choosing to shove anyone who neared Lance away hysterically.

"How're we gonna get to the hospital, now?" Fred sniffled a little. He wanted to ride in the ambulance, too.

"How? How? Blob, I'm disappointed at your lack of ingenuity. I'll tell you how! By the sheer will of the gods, that's what! Now, kneel down, brave knight!"

Pietro hoisted himself on Fred's shoulders and pointed to the heavens.

"Quickly, my meat machine! We fly! Onward! To honor and glory!" he shouted, steely gazed.

Fred galloped away; his arms extended outward, a brilliant smile on his face. What a great idea! Pietro was so smart sometimes. They became smaller and smaller on the horizon, looking like soldiers off to their final battle. It was the most majestic sight to befall Bayville High. Or it would be if Pietro hadn't fallen off a couple times and most everyone was in too much pain to notice.

Also, the two young men forgot one thing: They didn't know which hospital Lance was scuttled off to or where.

"Hey! What about me, yo?" Make that two things. God, those jerks always left Todd behind! "God, those jerks always leave me behind, yo!" Well said, Todd.

Todd hopped over near Jean, who was unenthusiastically trying to wake Duncan from his coma. "Oh no, please don't die, Duncan." She said. She didn't sound very concerned. Kurt and Kitty stood nearby, discussing the Lament of Lance.

"Like, I hope Lance is okay!"

"I'm more vorried for Scott. Vhat the hell vas that, anyvay?"

"I'm not sure…wait! What if…" Kitty shot up her hand to her face and covered her mouth. She looked side to side cautiously, as if her next words could cause the rest of the school to blow up.

"Yeah?"

"Maybe they're…involved." She whispered the last word, almost ashamed to say it, like some sort of sheltered child.

Kurt raised his eyebrows ever so slightly. "…I don't understand vhat you mean. Involved in vhat? A club?"

"No, no, you know…" Kitty made an indecipherable gesture with her hands.

"No, I don't know. Vhat is it?"

"She mean's they're GAY for each other, yo!" Todd shouted from right behind them, as loudly as he could, sowing the seeds for a delicious rumor. That'll teach Scott for shoving him! And Lance for using all of the hot water in the morning! He could hear the whispering (and gurgling) amongst the students now. Todd wanted to high five Kitty for giving him an opening, but she'd probably say shit, uh, no thanks, I just washed my hands. That's cool, yo, Todd would say. Maybe later? She would laugh a little too loudly then, and quickly excuse herself.

Todd stared at his hand, suddenly horribly, horribly depressed.

"Um, yeah, exactly, Toad, thank you." Kitty said. Todd didn't hear her.

"Seriously? Damn, girl, you haff issues." Kurt said; his eyebrows fully rose into his hairline.

"No, really! They're always so _physical_ with each other! Did you see the way Scott stroked Lance's face?"

"Hmm, I don't know." Jean sauntered over, leaving Duncan's unconscious body to fend for itself. "I think it's just Scott. Remember when he accidentally broke a window in the mansion? He kept apologizing to the window itself over and over again, desperately trying to put it back together by hand, for HOURS."

"So what, he's actually just a nut job?" Todd finally looked up and spoke again, forgetting his lack of social grace for the moment.

"Yes. And he's YOUR problem now." Jean ominously foreshadowed. Lighting struck nearby as she cackled gleefully and disappeared in a cloud of evil lung crushing second-hand smoke. She reappeared in Scott's car. How'd she get his keys?

Kurt and Kitty didn't even blink at Jean's display; did Todd just imagine it? Or-

"Hop in, guys! We have a hospital to get to!" Jean smiled a little, showing teeth. Run, Todd, run for your life! Run! Ru-

Yeah, it was all in his head, he thought. So hop he did.

Oh, for the love of- YEAH FINE DON'T LISTEN TODD.

ooooooooooooooooo

Hey guys! This chapter is a bit shorter than the others. Also, it seems a little more serious business at the end. But fear not! I am establishing a little bit of plot (gasp!) so hang tight! Next time- What has become of Fred and Pietro? And lots of horribly uncomfortable Scott time (who seems pretty OOC right now, but don't worry; The Scott in chapter three is gonna be back in full force along with this Scott. What a potentially terrible combination!).


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